


you (more like love than love itself)

by littleheavens



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Misunderstandings, The P in 2park stands for Pretty Fucking Dense, Winkdeep, deephwi is a side pairing, except not really???? you'll see, i almost forgot to tag winkdeep even though it's like.... the major beginning of the plot.. so:, lots of needless and unnecessary pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-04-19 18:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14243040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleheavens/pseuds/littleheavens
Summary: For as long as they've known each other, Park Jihoon and Park Woojin have walked a thin line between being so-called frenemies andsomethingelse. Then Jihoon gets dumped by his fake boyfriend and he's left to deal with the hurricane of feelings he's worked so hard to repress.





	1. foolproof plan

**Author's Note:**

> me to myself: what if i write a fake dating au EXCEPT it's not a fake dating au

Jihoon gets real broken up with by his fake boyfriend on a Saturday.

 

Coincidentally, it is the exact moment he realises he might be in deep trouble because of it.

 

“You know,” Jinyoung starts. It’s gloomy outside and they’re out to get some coffee. Well, technically they’re studying at the library but Jihoon needed something to help him stay awake, so here they are. “Daehwi asked me out.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah.” He sounds unsure, almost. As if he’s debating whether or not that really happened.

 

It did happen, because the next thing Jinyoung says is: “He asked so cutely. Very Daehwi-like. I said yes.”

 

“ _Dude,_ that’s amazing. First of all, I never even expected you to be able to say even one coherent word to that guy–”

 

( Jinyoung mutters something along the lines of _who says it was coherent_ )

 

“– secondly, you’ve been pining after him for so fucking long.”

 

And Jihoon is genuinely happy. For Jinyoung, and for Daehwi. But he also feels a pang in his chest; a feeling he can vaguely identify but doesn’t want to put a name on it. He doesn’t dare to.

 

But Jinyoung grins at him and that somehow makes everything simultaneously better and worse. Jihoon pushes his thoughts aside and says, “So, what’s next?”

 

“I go on a date. Obviously.”

 

“If you don’t die from the stress first.”

 

“Shut up,” Jinyoung says as he takes another sip from his own coffee cup. They fall into a comfortable silence for a little while. Jihoon thinks it’s time to head back to the library — his essay won’t write itself — but then the younger looks like he wants to continue saying something.

 

Jihoon spots him opening and closing his mouth a few times. He pretends to be on his phone, but he sees Jinyoung clearly from the corner of his eyes. If this were any other situation, Jihoon would throw in a remark about how the younger looks like a gaping fish. But it’s not, so he doesn’t.

 

“Jihoon?”

 

There we go.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You know if this thing with Daehwi works out, we can’t do what… what we’ve been doing, anymore.”

 

And yep, there it is.

 

“Of course.” _Of course_ , it’s not like he can say something else, right? It’s not like he can ask Jinyoung and him to just remain what they are. But that’s fine, he tells the feeling in his gut, because it really is.

 

They’ve known each other long enough to be able to fall back into the deep and unconditional friendship they’ve always had. If they both at one point thought that wouldn’t be the case, they wouldn’t ever have started this whole fake boyfriend thing in the first place.

 

“Okay, good,” Jinyoung says, and they both smile at each other. Sincerely.

 

And that’s how Jihoon gets real-broken up with by his very much fake-boyfriend. He’d known, of course, that this wouldn’t be forever. He knew it wasn’t real anyway. It didn’t even mean anything serious in the first place.

 

The whole fake boyfriend business was just something that started for convenience purposes on a drunken night at the beginning of the semester. Jihoon doesn’t remember the exact details. Just that they were out at a party one of the dance club members was throwing, and some buff guy came up to Jihoon — grinding into him harshly, supposedly trying to woo him, or whatever — and Jinyoung, upon noticing the other’s discomfort, had stepped in and said Jihoon was his boyfriend.

 

After that, it had come almost automatic. A routine. It was an almost unspoken vow between them — they’d pretend to be dating every time they went out together. It felt safe, easy. Because at the end of the night nothing really changed between them.

 

The fake dating came with, well, _benefits_.

 

First it was at the parties they went to; to convince whoever it was they wanted to convince. Jihoon was never into the whole _one night stand_ business anyway, despite the numerous attempts both guys and girls have made on him. But fake-dating Jinyoung came with real kisses, real hugs. And what started as a party purpose turned into them doing it every time one of them felt like it. Every time one of them felt sad, or troubled, or worried. Or if they just needed some warmth and comfort.

 

Which, for Jihoon, was more often than he’s willing to admit to.

 

Those weren’t the only benefits, though. Although, thinking back on it, maybe they were exact opposite of it.

 

Pretty much everyone knew Jinyoung had feelings for Daehwi. But Jinyoung isn’t known for his splendid decisions, and had said it would be quote-unquote “the perfect opportunity to catch his attention”.

 

Jihoon, at the same time, had had his own motives too. He had someone he needed to move on from. But if you ask him, he’ll always say he kept it going because of his lack of physical affection being solved and to help out a friend in an awful plan.

 

Either way, Daehwi and Jinyoung are finally taking it to the next level. Those two had been pining after each other for ages, to a point Jihoon often thought about calling it quits just for Daehwi’s sake.

 

(Daehwi, on the other hand, didn’t mind as much. He’d known about the arrangement, even discussed it with Jihoon on a few occasions. He knew it wasn’t serious, but Jihoon felt like an asshole every time they ran into the younger when together.)

 

Jihoon is happy for them. Relieved, even. And yet. _Yet_.

 

Yet he feels a little heartbroken, and he can’t even explain why. He can’t explain why because that would mean admitting certain things and maybe having to face them.

 

So he can’t, and he doesn’t.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Donghan, however, is a little more relentless.

 

“Oh my god, you’re _moping_ ,” he points out later that day after Jihoon had come back from the library, “Park Jihoon, moping on my couch. The others will not _belieeeeeve_ , I have to take a picture of this to send to the group chat!”

 

“I’m not moping. And even if I was, one word about this to anyone and I _will_ snap your neck, Kim Donghan.”

 

That’s enough of an answer for the other. He sits down next to Jihoon and continues. “Okay, let’s say you’re—” he makes air-quotes with his hands “—not moping, you have to admit you kind of caught feelings along the way.”

 

Huh. Yeah. _Well_.

 

That’s it, isn’t it?

 

“I can’t believe you. Of course you’d catch feelings for someone who was practically taken in the first place.”

 

“Listen to me, you asshole,” Jihoon fires back, “First of all, it was Jinyoung who said it would be beneficial to make Daehwi notice him or whatever. Secondly, whatever it is that I felt was because I was _lonely_.”

 

Donghan gives him an eye-roll so severe he’s surprised the ground under his feet isn’t shuddering. “Sure, whatever you say. I don’t believe a word of it, but whatever helps you sleep at night.”

 

The other huffs at that and Donghan raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t offer another word. He just sits next to Jihoon, watching him with curious eyes.

 

It’s frustrating.

 

Deep down Jihoon wishes he had, in fact, fallen for Jinyoung. He’s not going to lie and say there weren’t any feelings involved sometimes — it’s hard not to when it’s the only times he’s able to _forget_ about the things he wanted to forget, when it's the only time he felt truly safe and comfortable being held.

 

Okay. So maybe there were feelings. Tiny snippets of longing for a hand to hold, for someone to take on silly dates. And maybe that someone became a little bit of Jinyoung when it used to be about someone else first.

 

He knows he should have called it quits the moment he even considered all of this, even for a split second. But for selfish reasons he didn’t. So he’s left to deal with it now.

 

There’s a beep from the table that snaps him out of his thoughts. Jihoon’s phone.

 

Speak of the devil.

 

To his utmost surprise, it’s Jinyoung texting him, asking what he should wear to his date with Daehwi. Followed by a “ _Never mind, I forgot you give terrible fashion advice_.”

 

It makes Jihoon grin at his screen, and an odd feeling or relief washes over him. He knows whatever infatuation he’d felt towards the other wouldn’t have been enough to cause a rift between them anyway. Hell, they basically grew up together. And on top of that, he’s also genuinely happy for both Daehwi and Jinyoung.

 

Donghan, who had been silently watching still, gets up from the couch. “What I just don’t get is why you did this whole thing with Jinyoung when there’s someone much more suitable you could have fake dated and fallen in love with instead.”

 

“What was that?” Jihoon asks as he looks up from his phone, because Donghan is a professional mutterer and Jihoon has not yet finished his degree in Deciphering Donghan.

 

“I said—” Donghan begins to reply, but snaps his mouth shut. He seems to be thinking about it, contemplating whether he should repeat himself or not. “I’m just saying there’s more suitable contenders for the spot in your heart that you may have thought belonged to Jinyoung.”

 

“Yeah? And who would that be?”

 

Donghan scoffs at that, as if Jihoon should know the answer. He gives him an incredulous look as if to say _Seriously?_ and Jihoon sits there and feels like he missed out on some important memo he should’ve gotten. As if Donghan knows something he doesn't.

 

Okay, so. Maybe he _does_ know what he means. Donghan can read Jihoon like an open book sometimes. But whatever the older is implying wasn’t an option back then, though, and it isn’t now either.

 

His friend wisely decides to not take the bait, and Jihoon silently thanks him. He lets Jihoon be for a little bit before nonchalantly entering the living room again not even ten minutes later. “So anyway, do you wanna come along to meet up with Haknyeon for ice cream or what?”

 

“It’s literally raining.”

 

“As if that has stopped you before,” Donghan responds, before grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and pulling him out of the door without another word.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Heard you got dumped by your fake boyfriend, that sucks,” Woojin says en lieu of greeting when Jihoon runs into him on the way back from his last class the following Monday.

 

Park Woojin and Park Jihoon have been _kind of_ friends for quite some time. There is only a minor part of his life where he vividly remembers Woojin _not_ being around all the time. The only close friend he’s known longer, is Jinyoung.

 

In truth, they really didn’t get along in the very beginning. At all. He doesn’t precisely know why that is; he just remembers one day Woojin walked into the practice room of his high school’s dance club and Jihoon decided at that moment they’d be rivals, enemies for life.

 

They had been about thirteen years old and determined to make each other’s life hell.

 

The enemies for life thing obviously didn’t happen. They’d been on the way to becoming proper _friends_ by the age of fifteen. Even more so, Woojin had become one of his best friends by the time they had turned sixteen.

 

Jihoon had lost track of what they were by the time they left for college.

 

“Shut up, Park Woojin. It’s really whatever.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me? We hung out all of yesterday, but I had to hear it from _Daehwi_  during lunch _._ So, _whatever_ my ass, lesser Park.”

 

Jihoon didn’t think it would matter that much. Woojin has never particularly cared about what him and Jinyoung were up to. So despite them being best friends, he didn’t deem it necessary to tell the other.

 

Park Woojin isn’t done. “Let me guess, you’re happy for them but also a little bit heartbroken? Am I right?”

 

Wrong, actually. But whatever floats his boat. There might be some truth in it, after all.

 

“....I _guess,_ I mean not really, but... _”_ Jihoon says as he unlocks the door to his dorm. “Listen, it’s not like I was in love with him, okay? It was a crush— no... not even that. Infatuation, at the very most. Physical stuff tends to do that.”

 

He doesn’t notice how the other’s hand twitches for a second, as if he wants to reach out to Jihoon and _touch_ him. He’s too busy trying to read his expression instead.

 

The more he’s looking at Woojin now, the more he’s certain of what he’s saying. It suddenly downs on him that he should be angry, or at least feel a little bit of pettiness over the little tug at his heartstrings, because this maybe wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for the very person standing in front of him.

 

“I see,” the younger muses at last. “It’s funny, though. I kind of expected this to happen at last… One of you falling for the other, it was inevitable. I knew it would be you because Jinyoung was already too far gone on Daehwi.”

 

Jihoon sighs. “I didn’t fall for him. I wouldn’t have fake-dated Jinyoung if I had genuine feelings, you know.”

 

The other boy make an expression Jihoon can’t decipher, and a feeling of anxiety momentarily settles in his gut. “You should just mind your own business instead of making all these assumptions,” Jihoon snaps before his mind-to-mouth filter can stop him. He immediately regrets it, even though Woojin’s facial expression surprisingly… _softens_?

 

Then, “Sorry. It’s just that Donghan and Haknyeon have been bothering me over it all weekend and I just... yeah.”

 

“Hey, it’s fine,” Woojin says, and Jihoon is about to give him a thankful smile when the other boy grins at him. “I’m not saying I’m not going to make fun of you for a little bit, but,” he muses and trails off, before fishing out his key and unlocking his own dorm, which is right across Jihoon’s. “Anyway, I have a test tomorrow. See you, if I don’t die first.”

 

“Don’t come crying next time you’re out of hot water, you traitor,” Jihoon deadpans by means of goodbye. “I mean it.”

 

Woojin just grins at him before stepping into his apartment.

 

( When Woojin knocks on his door near midnight that night, towel swung around his neck and waving a bottle of shampoo with innocent yet pleading eyes, Jihoon just lets him in wordlessly. )

 

 

* * *

 

 

The following week passes quickly. Jihoon has essays to hand in and course material to study for. Life falls back into place like it usually does. 

 

He gets lunch with Jinyoung and Guanlin on Tuesday, studies together in the library with Woojin before the other's dance practice on Wednesday, bickers with Donghan until they almost burn their dinner (and the kitchen) on Thursday. It's the usual, as it should be.

 

It’s Friday before he well and truly knows, almost a week post Fake Breakup. Jihoon curls up in his bed and realises sleep won't find him soon, but his thoughts will.

 

Woojin had just left Jihoon’s place after a night of lazing around and playing games, and something in Jihoon had been hyperaware of every move the younger made. This... this is by all means not the usual. So as he looks up at his ceiling for God knows how long, he allows to be honest with himself. Just this once, he allows himself to let his thoughts run.

 

He thinks about Jinyoung, how everything had fallen back so easily. How he'd helped Daehwi with some date ideas, even. 

 

Then, his thoughts inevitably shift to Woojin. He thinks about the pointed look Donghan had given them earlier when Woojin had buried his face into Jihoon’s chest after losing from him for the third round in a row.

 

It didn’t used to be this complicated. There was Woojin, and there was Jihoon. And then, there was Woojin And Jihoon, and Jihoon And Woojin.

 

And then, sometimes, it was just Woojin and Jihoon again. Separately, miles and miles apart.

 

They had bickered a lot when they were younger. About useless things, really. Like who borrowed whose calculator or whose turn it was to clean the practice room. Daehwi refers to it as childish rivalry whenever it’s brought up in their group of friends. Maybe it was, but at least it was easy.

 

It's true, though. They _had_ been rivals. Woojin had transferred schools and joined the dance team after the first year of secondary school, and Jihoon had felt a little threatened. He had taken an immediate dislike to the other, which only worsened after he’d befriended Jinyoung, who was _Jihoon’s friend_ first.

 

This all changed when they were nearly fifteen and one of their juniors had pulled the fire alarm and blamed it on Woojin and Jihoon, ending them both in detention. They plotted their demise in the two weeks they were given unfair punishment, and ended up discovering they clicked together better than initially expected.

 

In the end, two weeks of detention hadn’t been so bad.

 

Friends soon became _best friends_ and after a while Jihoon wasn’t just ‘Jinyoung’s Friend’ and Woojin was no longer ‘The New Kid Who Became Captain Of The Dance Team’ but it was Woojin’s Jihoon, Jihoon’s Woojin.

 

At the age of eighteen, Jihoon noticed that maybe he didn't want Woojin to be just a friend. It had been scarier than anything he’d ever felt.

 

The realisation came slowly. It was when Jihoon started feeling cold at night earlier that winter, wishing he had someone to hold, he thought of a boy he shouldn't be thinking of like that. It’s that when he wanted to kiss someone, hold their hands, wrap himself around them, he thought of _Woojin_. He wanted to know what that meant — wanted to know why he felt this way about him, why is was  _him_  in the first place.

 

He never thought of taking it further or exploring it, insecurities piling up on him one by one. It had taken them so long to even be friends and Jihoon couldn’t trust his rare sparks of courage to not fuck it up. 

 

It didn’t matter, though. Because before Jihoon could even properly put a label on what it meant to have your heart speed up every time your best friend did as much as look at you, Woojin had gotten himself a boyfriend. Ahn Hyungseob was in their year and on the dance team with them and was one of the nicest people Jihoon has ever met. He still is. Jihoon couldn’t find it in him to be bitter or unhappy, especially not when Woojin looked this happy.

 

Their relationship had started four months before graduation. As time went on, Jihoon had found it harder to breathe whenever Woojin was around. 

 

He realised he had feelings for someone he couldn't have.

 

So he'd tried to get over Woojin.

 

The summer after graduation, he’d tried to hook up with the strangers that came onto him at parties sometimes, convincing himself it was just a lack of physical affection that made him think this way. He had tried the awkward Tinder dates, had tried meeting new people left and right. But he didn’t feel anything for them, didn’t feel any better when someone gently reached for his hand in a movie theatre. He didn't feel better. Not when it wasn’t them he wanted in his arms.

 

He never went through with anything he started or any initiative he might have taken. Ironically, Jinyoung had been the rare exception to it all.

 

It would be a lie, saying what Jihoon had had with Jinyoung had nothing to do with Woojin. Because it had almost everything to do with it. The constant hinge of loneliness, the pang in his chest whenever he thought about it, the _pining_.

 

And Park Jihoon doesn’t pine, especially not over feelings he wasn’t even that sure of. So when the incident with Jinyoung happened that one particular night, he jumped on the opportunity. It had been so, so easy, because what he and Jinyoung had was a simple matter of something beneficial for everyone involved. Jinyoung could get a reaction out of Daehwi and Jihoon could forget about whatever he thought he was feeling for Woojin.

 

It was safer too, with Jinyoung. They’d known each other long enough to trust blindly, to know they would protect each other and have each other’s backs.

 

He’s pretty sure Jinyoung knew about Woojin, too. Not that it mattered. Over the months that passed after they started their fake dating at parties and eventually just regularly too, he started to think less about kissing Woojin when he saw him. He learned how to breathe again.

 

It had served a confirmation for Jihoon, that it was only a lack of physical stuff after all, that he’d made it all up.

 

He was perfectly content with the casual hugs and kisses from Jinyoung. Even when Hyungseob and Woojin broke it off two weeks before last Christmas and the latter hadn't looked all that upset about it, the weird surge of momentary _hope_ was just a figment of his imagination.

 

Park Woojin would still be someone he couldn’t have. He knew that much.

 

And now, this.

 

When he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure his beginnings of an actual crush on Jinyoung might have happened sooner or later. Especially if his few hours of moping (so maybe he _was_ moping, okay) after the Real-Fake-Breakup were anything to go by. And it was fine, he’d concluded after that. Jinyoung got what he truly deserved and Jihoon could continue to live his life with two of his best friends by his side and no feelings. He was over it — had enjoyed it while it lasted, and it had taken him away from the reason this began for him in the first place.

 

It had been mostly foolproof — a success.

 

But then Woojin had walked through his door earlier tonight with Jihoon’s favourite brand of ice cream, wearing a sweater from their old dance team, and Jihoon starts to consider the possibility that everything he’d convinced himself of over the past year has been a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my friends on twt had this ongoing joke that winkdeep fake dated but caught feelings for each other (hi ali)... cue my brain coming up with this MESS! either way, feel free to leave a comment, be it good or bad or critical or total gibberish. any kind of feedback is more than welcome because there's always room for me to improve! my twitter is @[mijoo](https://twitter.com/mijoo), but i'm a lot more coherent on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/myung) if that's what you're into! ♡  
> 


	2. heart stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> boys will be boys (read: park jihoon is a stubborn gemini and needs to get himself together asap)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> better late than never, i say as i post this chapter a month later than my "i'm going to have it up by next week" promise. in turn, i am rewarding you with emotional constipation and a little angst i didn't know i was capable of writing.

 

Park Jihoon is a lot of things. And in this moment, he’s being a very good liar. Specifically to himself. _Especially_ to himself.

 

“Hey, no offense, but you look really tired.”

 

Jihoon peeks at Guanlin from under his bangs, but makes no effort to move his head away from where he’s leaning on his hand. “Just couldn’t sleep well these past few days,” he admits, without adding any detail as to why.

 

His younger friend raises one single eyebrow at him, but goes back to the text book on the table in front of him. Jihoon loves it when Guanlin doesn’t prod.

 

He’d woken up on Saturday morning with an unspoken realisation uncomfortably settled heavy in his gut. He’s used to a lot of things — from grogginess to stress to the very ( _very_ ) rare feeling of being well rested. But not this. If anything, he should’ve some reassurance, some piece of the puzzle just _clicking_ into place, but that was certainly not the case.

 

It’s not because of Woojin, he tells himself. A mantra, a reminder — one he repeats and repeats when he wakes up Sunday morning with the same feelings of _confusion_ , after not having been able to fall asleep the previous night either.

 

He just has a lot on his mind, okay? College is tougher than he thought.

 

Looking back to his own text book, the words seem to blur together. The material doesn’t seem to get through, and after trying to read the same paragraph for the fifth time he just decides today is just not his day.

 

Shutting it, he gets up and announced, “I’m going to get something to eat.”

 

Guanlin looks at him and nods. “Get yourself some coffee, too.”

 

Seeing no harm in it, he decides to follow his younger friend’s advice. Maybe some coffee _will_ do him good and help him concentrate. Rationally, it might not be the best decision, especially not if his concentration is still going to fail him. It’s worth a shot though; these pages aren’t going to study themselves.

 

When Jihoon returns, the spots opposite of him have been taken. He looks at Daehwi and Woojin’s backs turned at him, talking animatedly with Guanlin. Woojin spots him as he places his cup on the the table, and smiles softly.

 

The danger zone has become some sort of bare minimum, apparently, if the fact that even  _this_ has Jihoon’s heart stuttering against his ribcage is anything to go by. It’s scary, he thinks. He wishes Jinyoung and him ending their fake relationship didn’t result into a Second Woojin Awakening, much less into a new chapter of his ongoing existential crisis.

 

He’s not sure how many times Daehwi has called out his name, but suddenly Guanlin flicks him on the forehead next to him.

 

“Ow, _what_ was that for!” he says, rubbing at his face, glaring at his youngest friend.

 

“Daehwi’s been calling your name for the past 30 seconds, hyung. Drink your coffee, you clearly need it.”

 

Jihoon bites his lip and shoots Daehwi an apologetic glance. “Sorry, what’s up?”

 

“Nothing, I just said hello,” Daehwi replies, giving Jihoon one of his signature smiles.

 

“Are you okay, though? You’ve been zoning out.” That’s Woojin, and oh, the irony of it all. Jihoon just huffs at the remark, as if the person whose fault this is entirely isn’t the one asking the question.

 

Yeah. Okay. Maybe he’s not as good at lying as he thinks he is. Especially to himself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He keeps up the act. The thoughts manage to stay away, most of the time, even when Woojin is next to him and clinging to him as per usual but his heart feels _sparks_.

 

At night, he thinks. He thinks and keeps thinking. All of this shouldn’t be this much of a goddamn issue — it’s Woojin, after all. Woojin, who is his best friend first before he could ever be anything else. They’ve been through too much together for Jihoon’s feelings to get in the way. But his mind has always unhelpfully supplied him with different scenarios, different outcomes to every situation until he accidentally forces himself into some sort of anxiety.

 

Figuring out what he wants remains an unsolvable mystery. Every time he thinks he knows, his heart betrays him, his mind offers him another excuse, and his blood runs a little cold.

 

It isn’t helping that, apparent to everyone but Jihoon himself, Woojin has been sticking around way more often than before the fake-breakup.

 

He runs into Jinyoung on the way to get coffee again. It’s a Thursday and he has another two-hour lecture and while every nerve of his body is telling him to go home, he trudges on as stubborn as he is. It’s their usual place, the one they used to frequent often during study sessions. It downs on him he hasn’t been here since Jinyoung and him broke up, neither has he _seen_ or spoken to Jinyoung except for the regular text messages.

 

For a split second, Jihoon considers ducking away behind one of the huge plants in the shop, but then he thinks about how ridiculous that sounds.

 

Even if he had plannen on doing so, it would have been too late. Jinyoung has already seen him and is offering him a small, but genuine smile. The younger walks up to him and pats him on the back. “Mornin’, grumpy.”

 

“It is exactly,” Jihoon answers back, looking at his watch, “3:46 in the afternoon.”

 

“Yeah, well, I woke up around noon, and you look exhausted. So: _morning_.”

 

As expected of Bae Jinyoung’s logic.

 

“Anyway, you want coffee? My treat.”

 

Jihoon nods skeptically. He accepts, of course, but consciously knows that Jinyoung _never_ offers to pay for anyone (unless that someone is Daehwi, he’s learned). “Sure? What do you need from me?”

 

Jinyoung bursts out into a short laugh at that, “Nothing. It’s just been a while. Take it as a thank you for the past months.” At Jihoon raising an eyebrow, he scrunches his nose. “I won’t offer again.”

 

This is how they end up at their usual table at the back, near the window. Jihoon stares outside as Jinyoung gets their orders. They’ve gotten coffee enough times that they don’t have to ask for the other’s preferred drink. He thinks how less than two weeks ago everything was so different, how two weeks ago Jihoon still felt like he had himself figured out.

 

“If you’re just going to sit here day dreaming, I might as well go,” Jinyoung says as he comes back with two steaming cups of coffee and sees the other lost in his thoughts.

 

Jihoon looks up and takes his cup with a grateful smile. “It’s all good, don’t worry. How have you been, anyway?”

 

They catch up for a little while, mostly talking about their excessive workload and how they can’t wait for a little break. Not long after, the topic shifts to Daehwi. “I meant to ask, how did your date go?”

 

If the bright smile on Jinyoung’s face is anything to go by, Jihoon can assume the very best. “It was good… really good. I think we’re together?”

“You _think_?”

 

“Well, we kissed and stuff so—” his cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he doesn’t finish his sentence. Jihoon just smiles and waves his hand dismissively.

 

“I’m happy for you,” he says, and he has never meant anything in his life more than this.

 

Jinyoung smiles and Jihoon’s heart unwillingly constricts a bit.

 

“And what about you?” the other asks, then.

 

“What about me?”

 

Jinyoung raises an eyebrows. “And Woojin?”

 

What.

 

“There’s nothing between us,” he says, matter-of-factly. Seriously, though: _what_?

 

Jihoon looks at the boy across from him, and suddenly his heart is beating in his throat way more prominently than it should be. The other boy across from him just gives him a confused look and an attempt of damage control. “Oh, sorry, I just assumed… since Guanlin said you’ve been attached to the hip again… anyway, never mind,” he says, smiling unsurely, before changing the topic to something else entirely. Tact has never been Jinyoung’s forte, but Jihoon is thankful.

 

Never mind that last lecture. What he needs right now is a nap.

 

 

* * *

 

 

So.

 

Apparently Woojin has been hanging out more often. An apparently everyone is aware of that and thinking that means _something_.

 

“Donghan,” Jihoon says the next day as they’re finishing one game and starting up a new one.

 

The blonde doesn’t even look at him as he’s scrolling through the game's menu. “Hmmm?”

 

“Do you think Woojin has been around more often?”

 

That’s when Donghan promptly presses _pause_ and looks at the younger. “Ummm… I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”

 

“Honesty would be nice, thanks,” is what Jihoon responds, and in any other situation it would have earned him an ass-kicking. But not this time, so this means Donghan, for once in his life, seems to be taking this seriously. _Damn_.

 

“He has. I think? I don’t know,” is what the older says after a little while. “He’s always been around, you know. It wouldn’t be Woojin without Jihoon and the other way around.”

 

Jihoon has barely figured out if that reassures him or not, before Donghan continues. “He’s been hanging out so much though, maybe more than usual now that you mention it. It’s like he thinks it’s really time to step in after your fake break up, or something.”

 

“Woojin isn’t like that,” Jihoon retorts. He pauses for a second. “I think.”

 

And then, “He doesn’t even like me that way.”

 

Donghan raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

 

“It’s nothing, alright? Forget I asked.” Before Donghan can retort or add more words to confuse his brain, Jihoon snatches the remote from the other boy and presses _play_ to start another game round.

 

Despite Jinyoung and Donghan’s words, combined with his own brain overanalysing all of Woojin’s actions, things settle back into normalcy. Jihoon is forcing it, he knows, but it seems to be helping so he’s not complaining too much. He lets Woojin hang around as usual, plays games and bickers and lets the younger hug him during scary movies as usual. He tells himself it’s fine, even though he has long established what his heart is feeling is not fine at all.

 

This is what he’s good at. This is what he can do if his mind allows him; turn situations to his hand, to how he wants them to be. It comes with his stubbornness, with his desire to thrive and achieve. Except in this situation, it might not be good for his heart or his thoughts. But fake it until you make it, no?

 

His facade cracks again not even a few days later. Just like that. Just like the storm that is Hurricane Park Woojin.

 

There are very rare occasions where their little group of high school friends are all free for lunch at the same time of the day. Today looks like it’s one of those days.  The weather is nice enough to sit outside, and Woojin catches up to Jihoon right as he’s about to go for some fresh air after one of his lectures. “Hey! Have you eaten?”

 

“Nope,” Jihoon answers, lifting up a paper bag from one of the campus bakeries. “I will soon, though.”

 

“Nice. I’m free, too. Let’s find somewhere to sit outside,” Woojin says and follows him out of the building.

 

Once walking outside, Jihoon barely even spots a flash of blonde hair before he’s suddenly being gripped by the shoulders and turned around. Woojin is holding him at arm’s length, staring straight at him.

 

The younger’s eyes study him for a while, before he opens his mouth and closes it a few times. Then, he suddenly turns a little red and averts his gaze from Jihoon’s questioning eyes and lets go.

 

“ W-What was that all about?” Jihoon manages to bring out.

 

“Um...” Woojin starts, but trails off. He brings his arm up to rub at his neck — a sign that he’s nervous. “I don’t know I just… Daehwi and Jinyoung are there. Together.”

 

Jihoon needs a moment to puzzle the pieces together. “Okay, and?” And then, “ _Oh._ ”

 

The smile on the other’s face looks apologetic, but Jihoon grins at him. Something in his chest feels warm, warmer than it probably should. “Woojin, it’s been three weeks. And they’re my friends first before they are boyfriends, you know. Don’t worry about it,” he says, before lightly tugging at the younger’s wrist and getting him moving again. “Let’s go say hi.”

 

Woojin stops him for a second, pulling him back and sliding Jihoon’s hand from his wrist down into his. “You’re sure?”

 

“Yes, don’t worry. There was never anything to worry about in the first place,” Jihoon says and squeezes Woojin’s hand without even realising that he’s holding it.

 

It doesn’t settle until later that Jihoon hadn’t let go of him, and that Woojin didn’t make any effort to be freed, either. It probably wouldn’t have until both of them noticed Daehwi eyeing them up and down as they approached.

 

They don’t talk about it. Jihoon tries to forget.

 

( He doesn’t. )

 

 

* * *

 

 

Realisations and admissions are exempt in situations like these. But this is what Jihoon knows: falling in love with Park Woojin was both the hardest and easiest thing in the world. He doesn’t know when he finally accepted that he _likes_ Woojin _(again?)_. It shouldn’t be a surprise with the way his heart has been acting, stuttering, suffocating, begging for acknowledgement, but it is.

 

It must have happened on one of the nights he lied wide awake in the darkness with nothing but his thoughts. Was it after that Friday, the very first one he gave himself permission to speculate? Was it just a few days ago, Woojin pulling at his hand, a look in his eyes asking if he’s okay?

 

Maybe he was just always feeling like this about Woojin, maybe it was from way before senior year and Ahn Hyungseob. Woojin has always been _there_ , and maybe _that_ is exactly the problem.

 

Since day one, petty rivalry aside, Woojin has always been a constant. There is no better word for it. Jihoon thinks it works both ways. Woojin gave him a challenge, a form of chaos in the best possible way in his quiet life filled with routine. At the same time, he’d like to think he gave Woojin a sense of calm, normalcy in return. As the tides pushing and pulling, completing each other when needed most. Together, it seems that they had been complete.

 

Yet, with the realisation out of the way, there’s still _fear_ , uncertainty. He’s decided it’s better if Woojin didn’t find out about his feelings, no matter what their friends have been implying in their looks and insinuations. He doesn’t think he’s ready to be in love like this, doesn’t think he wants to compromise what he has with Woojin right now just because his heart keeps betraying him.

 

So, all in all, he thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at hiding it. Except after one unexpected crack in his surface, the one in the field the other day, it doesn’t take a lot for the whole mask to slowly come crumbling down.

 

And after that, it doesn’t take long before the entire thing comes crashing down in it’s entirety.

 

This is how it happens:

 

Jihoon drags himself out of bed near midday on Saturday. He has the dorm to himself, Donghan spending the day with some of his high school friends and Haknyeon saying he would go study with Sunwoo in the library.

 

Woojin texts him just as he’s pouring himself a bowl of cereal, asking to come over. That’s his way of announcing he is, in fact, coming over without further notice. And it’s true, because Jihoon can’t even begin to type back a reply before there’s a knock on the door.

 

Somehow he forces Woojin into getting some work done — they’re college students, after all — with the promise they’ll watch a movie later.

 

They spend the afternoon lazily going through their respective course materials. Jihoon on his bed as Woojin characteristically rolls around on his carpet. They bounce commentary back and forth, insult each other as per usual. At one point, Jihoon throws one of his socks at Woojin and hits him square in the face.

 

Routine. Easy. Usual normalcy.

 

And then they ended up on Jihoon’s bed.

 

Now, this isn’t uncommon. Woojin has spent the night multiple times despite living right across the hallway. There’s enough space for both of them, Jihoon having lucked out and having been able to score a twin size bed at a decent prize at the beginning of the semester. The reasons were plenty, but it was mostly out of laziness and convenience.

 

Not this time, though.

 

As the afternoon starts fading into early evening, Jihoon feels himself getting tired. Eyes drooping, mind clouded and definitely not concentrating on his text book. Woojin shuts his own book, looks at the other boy, and throws himself on the other side of his bed. “So, enough work done for today. You promised me a movie,” he says, tugging at Jihoon’s shirt.

 

“Fine, _fine_ , let me just finish annotating this paragra—Hey!” Jihoon answers when Woojin rolls his eyes and yanks his textbook away from under him. “Give that back, Park Woojin, I swear to God!”

 

Woojin just laughs as he tries to get the book out of Jihoon’s reach. They play fight as they have done a thousand times before, through high school straight into university. Jihoon ends on top of him, straddling his waist, grabbing onto both of Woojin’s wrists. The younger drops the text book quickly, but Jihoon forgets about it the moment their eyes meet.

 

The other boy smiles lazily up at him, and he lets go of Woojin’s wrists instantly, punching him lightly in the chest. Woojin grunts, but laughs and settles his hands on Jihoon’s hips. The touch nearly burns through his shirt.

 

“Park Jihoon, you might really be the death of me,” Woojin says, and he giggles.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Woojin nods, a resolute yes.

 

“Okay,” he says, and promptly decides he needs to get off of Woojin _fast_. He rolls off, laying down next to the other. “If you become a ghost, feel free to haunt me any time.”

 

“I just might,” Woojin responds, and when Jihoon turns and looks at him their faces seem impossibly close.

 

Again, not a first. But Jihoon’s heart is stuttering against his ribcage, demanding to be freed, demanding to leap into Woojin’s hands.

 

“Pinky promise me?” Jihoon just says, linking his pinky finger with Woojin before the other can reply. Woojin, luckily, hums contentedly in response, closing his eyes and smiling. Before Jihoon can even process what he’s doing, his best friend is leaning in even closer and resting his head on his chest.

 

Woojin smells good — like the cologne he borrowed from Jihoon once and never gave back, like the detergent his mother insists he use, like _home_. Jihoon, on instinct, wraps his arms around Woojin, who in return raises his hands to run his fingers through Jihoon’s hair. It’s a sight to behold, probably.

 

If Donghan or Haknyeon came home now, they’d come to their own conclusions — especially with how they’ve been acting. Jihoon surprisingly (unsurprisingly?) finds himself not caring, not when Woojin is holding him like this.

 

Silence washes over them, then. Jihoon ends up listening to Woojin’s breathing while the younger is gently playing with his hair.

 

“Jihoon,” Woojin says after a while. It rumbles on his chest. He had been drifting off, but slowly opens his eyes and sees Woojin has lifted his head.

 

“Yeah?”

 

He doesn’t really know what he expects. Maybe Woojin wants to tell him something he remembered, maybe he’ll offer Jihoon to watch Black Panther like they’d promised to earlier, maybe they’ll just fall back into the mindless banter they were having before they entangled themselves with each other.

 

What he doesn’t expect, is Woojin’s hands trailing to Jihoon’s jaw, cupping it with a touch feather-light. What he does’t expect is Woojin looking at him with a gaze Jihoon can’t decypher. And then, Woojin’s gaze travels down to Jihoon’s lips, and Jihoon feels his own breath hitch in his throat.

 

What Jihoon expects least of all, is Woojin slowly letting go of him, untangling himself from Jihoon and getting up. “I… uh.. should go,” he says, and Jihoon blames his imagination for thinking Woojin sounds a little helpless.

 

“Yeah.” Jihoon feels too dazed to say anything more. “Yeah… okay.”

 

He watches Woojin get up, turn and leave with a soft _see you tomorrow after practice_. Jihoon is too dazed to respond, instead thinking he should have just asked him to stay instead. To stay. To never leave.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Awkward was never a word that fit in their dictionary.

 

Emphasis on _was_ , he supposes.

 

Because Jihoon feels the little bit of distance. A little bit of what it used to be, them being miles and miles apart. But not quite the same, because this is worse.

 

He can’t even say for certain if this is what awkward between them feels like, but he has no idea how else to describe it. Tense? Uncertain? Everything he’s been feeling out in the open and between them, basically.

 

Woojin hasn’t been to Jihoon’s dorm since that day. Not even to beg for a shower like he usually would when the water in his own dorm is too cold. It’s almost been a full week.

 

They’ve seen each other outside, of course. They hung out like usual. Jihoon still walks him back from his practices and they still study in the library and bicker over cheap dinner options. But something feels weird, something feels, for lack of better word, _off_.

 

He swallows his anxiety down and flips another page in his text book. He doesn’t notice Daehwi and Jinyoung exchanging A Look across from him at the table in the library. Woojin had just left for practice, and Jihoon feels like the other took all of Jihoon’s concentration and willpower with him.

 

Guanlin is the one to break the tension first. He accompanies Jihoon when he goes to get a snack at the small campus cafetaria. “What’s up with you and Woojin?” he asks, sparing the small talk and the build-up.

 

Jihoon just keeps walking. “Nothing? Why?”

 

“That’s not what it felt like earlier. That’s not what it felt like _all week_. There’s been something weird about you these days, but now Woojin hyung is acting weird too.”

 

For a second, Jihoon considers telling the younger to mind his business. But he figures it’s not worth it, so he just says: “We had a weird... _moment_ last weekend. It’s fine, we’ll be back like it didn’t happen in no time.”

 

Guanlin merely sighs at that, and Jihoon belatedly realises that he’s accidentally taken the younger boy’s bait.  

 

“We know you haven’t gotten over Woojin.”

 

Jihoon scoffs at that. “Don’t bullshit me, Guanlin. I wasn’t into him in the first place.”

 

( He knows he’s lying, and he doesn’t even know why. He was past the point of denial, but figures maybe that step only applied to himself and not to others. )

 

Guanlin rolls his eyes. He looks annoyed — no, straight up pissed off. “I’m not bullshitting you. God, you are _sooooo_ dense,” he says before heaving a sigh, “Why is it so hard for you to admit you like Woojin? Whether you still like him or like him again, it doesn’t matter. But _why_?”

 

There we go again. Jihoon is getting tired of this. How would they know what he feels?

 

Which is exactly what he tells Guanlin.

 

“Last time I checked you — or any of the others, for that matter — can’t read my mind. You all thought for a hot second I was seriously into Jinyoung too. So what the fuck is this all about?” Jihoon opens the door to the cafetaria and doesn’t wait for the other to catch up.

 

“I’ll admit, we don’t know what you feel. But with that being said, you really are this stupid, aren't you,” Guanlin says, but keeps his voice mostly down. He sounds incredibly frustrated, nonetheless.

 

“What?” Because seriously… _what_.

 

Guanlin groans. “I think Woojin likes you. He has, for a while now, I think. Even when he was dating Hyungseob he never looked at him the way he looked at you, or talked about you, or took care of you.”

 

“That’s because Hyungseob is full of sh—” Jihoon starts to say, but he’s halfway through before he realises that isn’t true.

 

“He’s not. And you know that, too.”

 

Jihoon ducks his head. Guanlin is right because Hyungseob is objectively one of the best people ever.  “I know, sorry. It’s just Woojin and I — we’re best friends?” He didn’t intend the last part to come out as a question, but it did and now Guanlin is raising an eyebrow again.

 

“That’s obviously not what I meant.”

 

Jihoon ponders on it for a few seconds, but doesn’t get the time to form a proper response before Guanlin adds, “He’s been distant from you, no? Is that the issue here?”

 

“I guess. Listen, nothing happened. Woojin doesn’t like me and even if _I_ did like him, I don’t do relationships.”

 

He doesn’t tell Guanlin why, doesn't tell him about the fear, about endings.

 

“Gee, Donghan was right. Talking to you about feelings really is like talking to a brick wall,” Guanlin says instead of elaborating, and  _what_. Since when do they even know each other? “I give up, Jihoon. Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not in love with Woojin, maybe we were wrong. Maybe he’s not in love with you, either. But it would surprise me, honestly.”

 

They fall silent for a second as they both pick something to eat and pay. Once outside, Guanlin grabs Jihoon’s elbow gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. His exasperation is still there a little, but Jihoon spots a glimpse of an apologetic Guanlin too. “I know we shouldn’t push you like this. It’s not our story to tell. But the hyungs and I just want the best for both of you, and this is just what we think. You just seem so lost in your own doubt, but I think you should think about it, Jihoon. Think about how Woojin makes you feel and what that means, that’s all.”

 

Jihoon wants to scoff, roll his eyes, maybe laugh and cry at the same time. Isn’t it funny how that’s exactly what he’s been doing for weeks now.

 

He just offers a small smile and a nod. They head back inside, but Jihoon feels like he’s suffocating in his books and his thoughts for the rest of the afternoon.

 

When he gets home that night, exhausted and ready to hibernate for a while, Donghan is leaning against the doorframe of his room. “Hey, do you know when Woojin is going to be home?”

 

Jihoon messily takes off his shoes and jacket, answering with “Why would I know?”

 

“I don’t know. Since you two are—”

 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jihoon cuts him off.

 

Donghan just blinks at him.

 

“I don’t want a relationship,” he simply adds.

  
Donghan raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.”

  
  
“But you were implying it.”

  
  
“I wasn’t. I just wanted to ask if you knew if maybe Woojin had the new schedule for practicing hours already. Since he lives right across us, I thought maybe you’d walked home together.”

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” Donghan says and huffs. “Get some sleep, Park Jihoon. And unclench a bit.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

In the darkness of the night, the conversation with Guanlin keeps repeating in his mind. The younger told him to think about it, which is exactly what he’s doing. What he’s _been_ doing. Even more so, thinking about it is an understatement. Instead, it’s almost consuming him.

 

He doesn’t think about the possibility of Woojin liking him — that’s territory he’s not ready to explore yet. Figuring out his own feelings is hard enough for now. He wants to know what it is he’s feeling.

 

This is the thing: he doesn’t know what he wants. He must have missed the moment Fate decided to hand out the ability to get yourself emotionally together, or something. Every time he thinks he does, something happens that confuses him and leaves him back to square one.

 

Something tells him he already knows the answers to his own questions. _He wants Woojin_. He wants Woojin so much if scares him. It scares him because he doesn’t know how to work real relationships, how to be in love with your best friend.

 

He wants peace. Coexistence.

 

He wants Woojin.

 

He just wants a hand to hold, someone to keep him warm when it’s cold and to hug him when he’s sad. No attachments, nothing to cry over when things end.

 

But he still wants Woojin. For a long time with no endings.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jihoon has always been fascinated with books, with stories. Has always loved the endings, specifically.

 

He doesn’t think he’s going to like this one.

 

On Sunday night, Woojin comes through his door without announcing anything in prior. “We’re going out,” he says, leaving no room for argument.

 

From his spot on the couch, he shares a look with Donghan, who is already dressed and merely shrugs. “There’s a party downtown at the place we usually go to. It’s finals season soon, we should go now that we still can. The entire dance club is going.”

 

“I’m not in the dance club,” Jihoon reminds him wisely.

 

“Touché,” Woojin interrupts, “but you’re friends with like all of us _and_ it’s been too long since we’ve been out together. You always used to go with Jinyoung. Come with me for a change.”

 

Jihoon looks at his best friend, and then back at Donghan. His roommate just shrugs and heads back into his own room.

 

It’s still a little strange between him and Woojin. Now, he’s not particularly known for his splendid life decisions, but he figures a little alcohol might just be the key to make things go back to normal.

 

( He wishes life would just agree with him for once. )

 

“Fine, I’ll come. Let me put on something else.”

 

The night goes like it usually does. They walk in, greet Woojin and Donghan’s friends at the bar, take a few shots to warm up. They drink and talk and mingle and _relax_. Woojin sticks by his side most of the time, even though more of his close friends are here.

 

He raises his shot glass to Jihoon’s, clinking them together briefly. “To us. May we both pass our finals gracefully,” he smiles, before downing his drink. Jihoon just follows suit.

 

When Woojin puts a hand on Jihoon’s thigh and squeezes his knee, giving him a smile that could blind him, a weight disappears. This is how they’ve always been. Maybe he was just overthinking, after all. They’re fine, just like that. But maybe it's because when evening blends well into the night, everything becomes just a little bit hazier. Donghan had dragged them all out to the dance floor. Jihoon himself isn’t a dancer the way some of his friends are, but he knows how to put up a good show.

 

Which means that it comes as no surprise that at one point someone comes up behind Jihoon and wraps his arms around his waist. Jihoon does what he’s always done before Jinyoung came to save the day: he keeps dancing.

 

“Hey,” the stranger says after a few minutes, voice low, and Jihoon somehow finds it in him to turn around and face the guy.

 

The guy in front of him looks a little older than him, but not much. Blonde hair, a sharp jaw, and a dazzling smile. Jihoon feels his head spin, and for a second he thinks about what would happen if he flirted with the handsome stranger. “Hi.”

 

Briefly, he thinks back to the time before Jinyoung, to the parties where he let himself be kissed by people who didn’t deserve it. Isn’t this something he should want, then? Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to find out what’s been happening to his mind and heart?

 

He has no time to think about it, no time to decide. Because as the guy leans in to say something in Jihoon’s ear, he spots Woojin from the corner of his eye. He must’ve looked a little panicked, he figures, because the other is right next to him in a heartbeat. “Hey,” he says, pulling Jihoon’s wrist, “Are you okay?”

 

Jihoon nods. “We were just talking, don’t worry.”

 

The guy turns to Woojin, then back to Jihoon. “And who’s this?” he asks. There’s no malice in his voice, no aggression or jealousy. And yet, suddenly the situation feels eerily familiar.

 

Woojin seems to hesitate, eyes flicking between Jihoon and the other guy. Then, he gives the stranger a sweet smile. “I’m his boyfriend. Sorry to break it to you,” he says and pulls Jihoon into his arms.

 

The guy laughs sincerely, then. “I see. No problem dudes. Sorry for interrupting. He’s cute, you know;” he says to Woojin, chin pointing at Jihoon. “Enjoy your night!” And suddenly he’s gone.

 

Well, that was fucking weird. Jihoon doesn’t even realise all of that just happened, but he’s acutely aware of Woojin’s arms around his waist. “You can let go now, if you want,” he manages to bring out.

 

“It’s fine,” Woojin responds and tightens his grip a little. Then he leans over a bit, so he’s speaking directly into Jihoon’s ear. “I’ll protect you tonight.”

 

He won’t lie: it’s nice,  _safe_ , being in Woojin’s arms. Has always been. They’ve hugged a thousand times before, but this is an entire universe of differences. Jihoon wants to live in this moment; wants to stay where he is. 

 

He thinks about kissing Woojin, just for a split second. And that’s where the alarm bells go off. He realises that this is for show. It must be, right?

 

Not again. He can’t do it again — especially not with Woojin. He doesn’t want to be here and accidentally kiss Woojin and wake up tomorrow having started something irreversible because his feelings have well and truly betrayed him. He thinks about Jinyoung, about how this is exactly how it started but a world of difference because get this: Jihoon _loves_ Woojin.

 

Jihoon loves Woojin and he wishes everything was easier, simpler. He wishes he knew what he wanted.

 

He can’t breathe.

 

Untangling himself from the younger, he sees the confused look on his face. “I need some air,” Jihoon says, before turning on his heel and leaving.

 

And Woojin wouldn’t be Woojin if he didn’t follow Jihoon outside to make sure he’s okay. He knows when to back off, usually, but right now he seems to think it’s because of what happened with the guy. “Hey, what's going on? Did that guy earlier do something to you? Do you need anything? Do you—”

 

“Woojin, you have to know,” he starts, cutting his friend off mid-tirade. He realises that this must be it, and thinks to himself that he never thought it would end this way. “You have to know that I can’t breathe around you.”

 

The boy opens his mouth, then closes it. Jihoon wants to kiss him.

 

 _Stop_ , he tells himself. He can torture himself over this later.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean that— Why? Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

 

The confused look Woojin gives him sends a pang of momentary guilt through him. “You’ve done this a thousand times.”

 

“With Jinyoung. Do you know why with Jinyoung, Woojin? Do you?”

 

The other is silent, squinting at him. A million questions are dancing through his eyes.

 

This must be where it ends, the curtain call. “Because I wasn’t in love with Jinyoung, asshole. I’d let anyone pretend to do this except for you. Except for you because I can’t stand the thought of it not being real.”

 

“Jihoon, what—”

 

“I fucking love you and it’s ridiculous. It’s ridiculous because I can’t, I _shouldn’t._  Not when I know it wouldn’t work like that.”

 

Woojin says nothing for a moment, just looks at him like they’re suddenly not speaking the same language anymore, like they’re miles and miles apart. “Jihoon, I—”

 

“No, no, it’s fine.” He doesn’t need to hear this, because he thinks he knows rejection when he sees it. “I just. I need time? To get over you? You’re my best friend.”

 

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want this.

 

He never meant for this to happen but Woojin is looking at him with something in his eyes that Jihoon can’t decipher and it hurts more than he thought it would have.

 

“I’m tired, so I’m going home. I’ll text you? Or not… I don’t know, depends on what you want,” he blabbers, mind-to-mouth control entirely broken. “Woojin, I’m sorry.”

 

When he turns, he feels the other’s hands graze his waist for a moment, but Woojin isn’t pulling him back. He hears a soft “ _Jihoon_ ”, but nothing else.

 

Maybe he’s imagined it.

 

He hails a cab, digs the spare key from behind the potted plant in the hallway, unlocks the door. Things he’s done a thousand times before, but never like this. Never feeling this empty, this numb.

 

Did he really just break his own heart like it was made of porcelain? Did he hurt Woojin in the process of it, too? He doesn’t even want to think about their friendship or what’s left of it.

 

He hates this. He hates how he thinks right now he’s got it all figured out, but any proper chances at dealing with it had been blown the moment Woojin decided to be oh so very _himself_.

 

Haknyeon is home, sitting at the kitchen table while talking to someone on Skype. He gives one look at Jihoon and he _knows_ isn’t right. Jihoon knows of himself that he’s a lot of things, but never like this. “Hold on, Jacob,” his roommate says to his laptop screen. “Jihoon, are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine. Just tired. If Donghan asks, you didn’t see me like this, okay?”

 

Haknyeon looks conflicted, but ends up nodding. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

 

“Nah. Nothing to talk about. I’m just going to sleep, alright?”

 

For the first time in weeks, Jihoon doesn’t lie awake thinking. He figures there’s nothing left to think about, and even if there is, he forces himself not to. He thanks the little bit of alcohol still left in his system for the fuzzy feeling in his head, and eventually drifts off into a dreamless sleep, wishing for a forgotten today and a tomorrow without consequences.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry? uh... hah. part three will heal any wounds created eventually, i promise you this. feedback/comments are always welcome! also: come for a chat or yell at me to hurry the hell up and write the next part on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/mijoo) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/myung).


	3. nobody better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as it turns out, 'needing time' is a bullshit excuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops... i am so so so sorry for the late update. school and life and writer's block got in the way. also this chapter alone is like... half the fic... idk proportions im sorry

They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Jihoon had always found this a little strange; life is life, moving on is moving on. And yet, he starts to understand now.

 

There is no other way to put it: _it hurts_. It hurts like heartbreak but somehow it’s even worse. He doesn’t just feel like he lost the chances of a happy ending; not quite, because he hadn’t expected one. Instead, he feels like he lost his best friend, beyond repair, no take backs.

 

Woojin had been there through good and bad times. Now, Jihoon is not even sure if he still wants to be there at all.

 

It’s barely been a week but it has felt like a year. They’ve never gone this long without talking as long as they’ve known each other, not even before they became proper friends. After Jihoon had left Woojin standing there that night, he hadn’t heard anything from him beside the soft clicking of the door across from his. Avoidance in its purest form, from both sides.

 

He’s not sure what to feel about it. He feels anger but he’s not sure whether it’s towards himself or Woojin or Jinyoung or Daehwi or the random guy in the club who started this entire breakdown. He’s hurt, confused. And while he knows he was the one who said he needed time, it still hurts that Woojin is actually giving it to him. It hurts because it’s just been awfully silent and he has no idea what to make out of that. He has no idea what Woojin is feeling, and it makes him feel terribly selfish. Foolish, even.

 

It’s fucked up and he knows that. He couldn’t have expected Woojin to have gone after him, even though Woojin was the one who always stood behind him, who managed to still find him in the darkest shadows.

 

Maybe this is too big for both of them, he figures. Maybe this rift between them is too hard to go and play cat-and-mouse with each other still.

 

He wonders if he regrets it, regrets _this_. He wonders if it’s going to be worth it. It was a spur of the moment decision — perhaps not a decision at all — and while it had hurt, he wonders if this is what he needed to get himself and his feelings together. Pain be damned.

 

But this is a fact; it’s suffocating, knowing his best friend is right across from his own dorm, yet so far away.

 

So he goes even further.

 

Jihoon’s only lecture on Thursday gets cancelled and he wasn’t planning on attending his Friday ones. He figures this is probably a nice opportunity to visit his family. A good excuse, too. A getaway from the stress of school and life, even if it’s just for a bit. So, packs his bag, heaves a sigh, and he goes home.

 

He leaves shortly after lunch, with only his backpack and an extra bottle of water and some snacks for his commute, only vaguely telling Donghan he’s going back to his parents’ house for a few days. Donghan doesn’t ask any questions, hasn’t been prying like he usually would since the incident — he only nods and tells him to go and come back safely.

 

They hadn't talked about it beyond _'what happend_ 's and ' _i don't wanna talk about it'_ s. But he feels that they feel it: the tension, the unspoken questions.

 

(It’s whatever. He’ll have to deal with it himself. It’s not like listening to his friends has helped before. Rather, it’s quite the contrary.)

 

His mother, however, _does_ seem to have some questions. She’s happy to see him, obviously. But she must notice something is off. Jihoon rarely visits during the semester, especially when it’s so close to finals season. So in all honesty, the questions were to be expected. She’d always liked prodding a little too much, in true _mother_ style.

 

She interrogates — there’s no better word for it — him over dinner that night. She asks him about his classes, his workload, then about his friends, if he’s seeing someone (he pointedly ignores that) and if he’s happy. And then, eventually, “How is Woojinie?” she says. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

 

Jihoon takes a second too long to reply. He knows it’s a normal question, Woojin has been around like family for years after all. But it stings a bit nonetheless.

 

His mother seems to pick up on the tension around him. She raises an eyebrow. “Are you two fighting?”

 

“Of course not, mom,” he says, because it’s technically not a lie. “He’s just busy.”

 

His mom nods, despite looking a little skeptical. “Ah, I see. Bring him next time, though. And Daehwi and Jinyoung also. I’m sure they miss home cooked food as much as you do.”

 

That’s all she says before asks if he needs more food and changes the topic to something Jihoon suddenly feels too tired to follow.

 

He decides to stay the weekend. It’s a little longer than he’d planned, but his parents aren’t complaining. He helps his mother cook and joins his father for errands around town. He manages to study a bit, manages to forget a little about the ache in his chest, manages to get some decent sleep much to his own surprise. It’s quite nice, and it’s peaceful.

 

Donghan video calls him Saturday night, Haknyeon peeking over the older’s shoulder. “We miss you!” he says, like it’s been months.

 

“Oh _please_ , I’ve only been gone for a few days. I’ll be back tomorrow night, by the way. My room better be in tact still.”

 

Donghan laughs, but for a second it sounds a little hollow. “Good. It’s been so quiet here the past few weeks. So come back safely, yeah?”

 

Momentarily, he gets hit with the probability they might not just be referring to him going home only. Jihoon feels a little guilty for a moment. It must have been hard for them too. “I’ll be okay,” he says, and sees his two friends smile through his tiny phone screen. “See you tomorrow.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Solitude is a strange thing. He’s not _alone_ , per se. Yet he feels like it is consuming him a little.

 

He’s not dependent on Woojin, let’s establish this as a fact. He never was. They can go days without seeing each other, barely exchanging a few words over texts, and fall back into their previous conversation like no time had passed. Even if they had a disagreement or argued over something, even if Jihoon distanced himself back in senior year for his own heart and peace of mind, they still spoke. That was fine to them, because that was _them_.

 

Now, all he feels is that something is missing.

 

Donghan finally tries to talk to him about it after Jihoon gets back to his dorm in the late Sunday afternoon, but three dirty looks later he, too, officially seems to have given up. Haknyeon picks up on the other’s sour mood as well and avoids the topic of Woojin at all costs. So much for saying he’ll be _fine_ , right?

 

But he tells himself he just needs some more time, is all. He just needs some time to shake off these feelings for Woojin, to tell his heart it’s okay to let go so they can go back to how it used to be. He just needs to figure out what exactly that even means anymore, still.

 

And he needs to stop feeling guilty. That, too.

 

This shows to be quite the task, because something inexplicably keeps tugging at his heartstrings, telling him that is not what he’d want. He can’t shake it away, even though he knows it can’t be that way.

 

Needless to say, the atmosphere at his dorm is a bit tense. But then Donghan, Haknyeon, and him still have one of their regular gaming nights and bicker while making heating up the leftovers his mother insisted he take with him, so Jihoon thinks it’s all good. No one asks anything and he doesn’t say anything, either.

  


In the end, _unexpectedly (?)_ , it’s Lee Daehwi who breaks through.

 

Jihoon holes up in the library cafe. It’s not a place he or his group of friends usually frequent at this time. It’s quite early in the morning still, the usual crowd of students who have early classes not having started yet. But here he is, half awake because his bed felt uncomfortable and his thoughts weren’t leaving him the hell alone.

 

The doorbell at the entrance twinkles just as Jihoon takes a tentative sip of his tea. He makes the mistake of looking up to see whoever has walked in, only to be greeted by a mop of light purple hair. _Lee Daehwi._

 

He gets lucky for now; the younger hasn’t seen him. Daehwi walks straight to the counter and greets the barista way too cheerfully for it to be 7:30 in the morning. It’s Ong Seongwoo behind the counter this morning, a senior of theirs and a good friend. Jihoon momentarily holds his breath and prays the older doesn’t accidentally rat him out.

 

He feels awful for having avoided his friends the past week or so. Even Jinyoung, who he usually studies with a few times a week. He feels bad, he really does, but there’s no other way. Specifically Daehwi, who will kick his ass once he sees him. Hence why he needs to pack up and _leave_ like yesterday.

 

As quiet as he can, Jihoon gathers his stuff and gets up. He puts his cap up, because he’s feeling like a coward so he might as well act like one. He makes it safely to the exit of the place when Seongwoo calls out: _“Bye Jihoon! See you soon!”_

 

Hurriedly, Jihoon sends the boy a wave and says a weak “See you, Seongwoo,” in return. His eyes catch how Daehwi stiffens, turns around, and meets Jihoon’s eyes with his own. The younger opens his mouth to say something, but Jihoon is power-walking out of the door before he gets to.

 

When Daehwi doesn’t seem to follow him, he lets out a breath.

 

Yet, he knows he’s not being let off the hook. Especially since the younger saw him and now is officially aware that he’s being avoided.

 

The late afternoon proves his point when Jihoon finishes his classes and heads into the library. It’s rather quiet, most lectures still going for another hour. He’s found a table near the window at the entrance and has barely seated down when suddenly the doors swing open and Lee Daehwi is there again. He immediately looks at Jihoon, and he looks, well, _pissed_.

 

“ _Park Jihoooooon_ ,” he starts, voice too loud to be appropriate in a place like this. The female student behind the counter gives him a dirty look and Jihoon just thinks about how Daehwi is going to get himself _and_ Jihoon suspended from the only place of peace and quiet on the entire campus.

 

“Park Jihoon,” the younger says again. His voice is still too loud, but quieter than the first time. He’s nearly at Jihoon’s table right now and if looks could kill, he’d be dead and dying right now. “We need to talk.”

 

“ _Can you quiet down, this is a place for learning_!” Jihoon hisses, playing it off as casually as he can.

 

Daehwi, who has reached the other’s desk in the meantime, smiles. He leans both his arms on the chair in front of him as he speaks, voice low. “If you don’t come with me in the next five seconds, I’m going to scream so loud you’ll get kicked out and denied access until you graduate.” He’s still smiling sweetly, and it’s a little scary.

 

Yikes. That sounds, well, really unfortunate. Jihoon already has at least three too many pairs of eyes in the library on him in a way he doesn’t want to, and Daehwi is known to be relentless when it comes to these things. Seeing no other option, he shortly nods, packs up, and follows the younger out. Not before nodding apologetically towards the girl at the entrance, though.

 

This is how he finds himself back at the cafe, Seongwoo greeting them cheerfully. “What’s it gonna be, kids?”

 

Daehwi gives the barista a sweet smile, “Jihoonie’s paying today! My usual please,” before hitting Jihoon on the back harder than should be appropriate and skidding off to find a seat near the window before the older can protest.

 

When he gets back to meet Daehwi at the table he picked, a cup of coffee in each hand, he vaguely recalls how he sat in this exact same booth just two weeks ago with Jinyoung.

 

Belatedly, he considers that when Daehwi left Jihoon to place their order would have been a perfect time to escape. Then his mind helpfully supplies him with the fact Daehwi can be straight up _evil_ and Jihoon doesn’t think he’s ready to face those consequences. Enduring it, it is, then.

 

“I wasn’t sure if you were just overly busy or ignoring me. But then I saw you this morning and you got out of here in a record time that would put Usain Bolt himself to shame, so.”

 

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, lets the apologetic blush creeping up on his cheeks speak for him.

 

Across from him, Daehwi gets the message and continues. “With that being said, Woojinie’s been acting strange. He’s been _moping_ , Jihoon. He looks like an abandoned puppy. I don’t know what’s going on because he won’t say anything to me about it. But because _you_ ran off earlier, and because I’m smart and perceptive,” Jihoon almost has the audacity to roll his eyes, “I figured it has something to do with you. So: talk.”

 

Talking. Right. Explaining why he’s acting like a royal baby and ignoring his best friend and everyone remotely connected to him.

 

But this is the thing, though: he doesn’t even know what to say. How is he supposed to talk when his thoughts are a maze he can’t manage to get himself through.

 

A few sips of his drink and a headache-inducing train of thoughts later, he settles for simplicity. “I told him,” he merely tells the younger, like that explains it. It should — Daehwi is, in his own words, smart and perceptive enough.

 

Yet, the boy in front of him still asks: “Told him what?”

 

Jihoon does roll his eyes this time, sighs, folds his hands over the table. “That I like him.”

 

“Okaaaay,” Daehwi draws out, a hint of confusion in his voice. “I mean? That’s great, though! So what’s the problem, then? Why are you not speaking?”

 

It’s tough to say, because Jihoon is convinced he’ll just feel like a fool even more. It’s not about the feeling of rejection, per se. It’s not about the fact he told him. It’s the consequences that came with it.

 

“I didn’t— It wasn’t meant to happen.”

 

Daehwi’s mouth snaps shut at that for a moment. He rolls his eyes, apparently not full understanding what Jihoon means. “You two are complete idiots, aren’t you?”

 

Damn. The amount of times he’s had to hear that recently.

 

“Yes, I’m aware.” There’s a little bit of a bite to his voice without him meaning to. “Yelling in your best friend’s face that you’re in love with him and then panicking and running off really wasn’t my best decision to date.”

 

“Wait, you ran off,” Daehwi simply deadpans, and Jihoon vaguely notices the younger clenching his fist around his latte, as if there’s a realisation downing on him. “ _You confessed to him and ran off_. Why?”

 

Jihoon feels it again, for a moment. The frustration of that night which both feels like yesterday as well as years ago, the warmth in his chest, the hint of pain, followed by emptiness. Woojin’s eyes, the corners of his mouth. Jihoon in his arms, being swayed to the music. The realisation it was because Woojin just wanted to be a good friend, a fake boyfriend, whatever. The realisation that Jihoon is in love with his best friend and isn’t ready for that. “We can’t be together.”

 

There must be something in Jihoon’s eyes when he says it, because Daehwi immediately unclenches his fist and lets go of his cup to reach across the table. “What do you mean?” he asks, laying his hand on Jihoon’s own that’s resting on the table surface.

 

“I don’t know. That’s just how it is.”

 

A sigh. “Jihoon, listen. I love you and all, but you’re going to have to be more clear than this. You’re good with words, usually, believe it or not.”

 

Jihoon needs to think about what to say, but he physically feels his brain _hurt_ with all the doubts and uncertainty. He’s chewing on his words, weighing them.

 

“So many things happened,” is what he settles for. “I can’t even… Too much happened.”

 

“Okay. Why don’t you just tell me step by step?” Daehwi says. His gaze has softened, and he gently reaches out to Jihoon’s hand on the table.

 

Jihoon turns his palm to take Daehwi’s, and smiles weakly at the gentle squeeze the younger gives him. “You know I’ve liked him for a long time, right?” he manages. Daehwi nods at that. “I thought I was over it. Over _him_. And after Jinyoung it just… maybe it never left.”

 

The nights he spent thinking and overthinking until he fell asleep, trying to figure himself out, contradicting himself.

 

Now, Daehwi is not a mind-reader, so Jihoon figures his facial expression must be telling his story for him. Because the younger sighs, squeezes Jihoon’s hand again, says “And you’re having trouble figuring it out?”

 

Jihoon just nods.

 

“You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with and how you fall in love with them,” Daehwi muses. It comes out more as a statement, as some sort of absurd advice. “You don’t get to choose how it happens or where. And it never goes according to plan, either.”

 

He guesses there’s truth in that. But even then, it doesn’t help with his feelings, does it? “I just don’t think it would work. I don’t think _we_ would work.”

 

The younger rolls his eyes, briefly. As if he had expected Jihoon to jump up and have it all figured out. “What makes you even say that?”

 

It’s a good question, a valid one at that. Jihoon realises he has no rational answer to that, just a feeling. A lot of feelings, actually. They’ve established this. He shrugs. “Maybe he just doesn’t like me. I was never supposed to tell him and now I did and ruined our friendship on top of it all.”

 

“Shouldn’t you be talking to him about this?” Daehwi says, a single eyebrow raised.

 

“Maybe,” is what Jihoon answers, even though he knows he probably should have the moment he woke up the day after his panic-induced confession. But he remembers what he’d said, and even though it’s not the best idea it still seemed like the only option. “I should get over him first, though.”

 

He just doesn’t want to make things awkward.

 

He just doesn’t want his heart to leap out of his chest, into the hands of someone who might not want it.

 

Across from him, Daehwi’s face twists more and more into a mix of uncertainty with a spark of annoyance. “Why on earth would you need to get over him, Jihoon?” the younger says, before abruptly snapping his mouth shut, as if he blurted something and opened a door he can’t close.

 

But Jihoon is too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice. He scoffs. “Did you miss the part where I told Woojin I was in love with him and he didn’t do anything but stare at me like a gaping fish?”

 

Daehwi sighs, a little resigned. “But did he reject you? Did he actively say he didn’t want to be with you? Because that would honestly surprise me.”

 

He genuinely doesn’t know anymore, and it’s suffocating him more and more with every passing second. Woojin _hadn’t_ rejected him. He hadn’t said anything, really. Maybe Jihoon just hadn’t given him the chance, too overwhelmed and out of touch with himself.

 

He’s come this far: he likes Woojin, _loves_ him enough to stop hiding it from himself. He’s stopped denying it, accepted it. But that doesn’t mean his anxiety and self doubt gets any less overwhelming. Especially after their last conversation, it feels like he’s put himself in a position he can’t move forward or backward from. He shut Woojin off, and now he’s stuck. _They_ are stuck.

 

He wishes he knew the solution to this, wishes he could just skip straight to the ending of this conflict to see how it ends and what he needs to do to get there. But he can’t. He can’t stop thinking about the possibilities and different scenarios, hasn’t been ever since Jinyoung opened — no, more like _kicked in_ — the door for Jihoon’s feelings to come back full force.

 

Daehwi must notice his internal conflict, because his eyes soften a little. _“Jihoon.”_

 

The other boy doesn’t say anything, his feelings threatening to spill over if he opens his mouth.

 

But he tries, after a few deep breaths. “And even then, I wouldn’t know how to be with him, I think.” It hurts. It _hurts,_ because he feels stuck in a conflict, the only outcomes being somewhere between bad and worse. He wants to be with Woojin, let’s establish that. But he also _doesn’t_. “I don’t know how to do those things because every time I try to think about it, it just ends badly for us.”

 

Nights and nights of thinking, of wanting Woojin’s arms around him and freaking out because he didn’t know what that meant. And in the end, this is what his mind has supplied him with: _scenarios_. Where in one Woojin never feels the same and it puts a strain on their friendship until they eventually and inevitably drift apart. In another they date and break up and never speak to each other again. Then in another one they date and Jihoon discovers this isn’t something he was ready for.

 

When Daehwi answers, he doesn’t say _it wouldn’t_ , he doesn’t say _your friendship is too strong to let that hurt you_. Instead, he says, voice soft as if Jihoon is made out of porcelain: “You have to stop doing this to yourself and not giving yourself the chance to properly figure out what you want without letting yourself spiral into negativity. I know you, Jihoon, you’re stubborn to a point even your own stubbornness is stubborn. But you have to let go of it and stop assuming the worst.”

 

“I just don’t want to lose him,” Jihoon manages, “I’m scared I will.”

 

“Well, would it be worse than how things currently are?” Daehwi asks in response, and that hits Jihoon a bit harder than he’d expected it to. The other didn’t mean it maliciously, Jihoon is sure, but it hurts, it stings.

 

The uncertainty between them, the distance, the subtle hints of awkwardness right before that he would almost call some sort of unresolved tension ending with acting like strangers — is it any better? But even if things go south later, would it be worth all of _this_?

 

Suddenly, he feels ridiculously selfish. He hangs his head low, not daring to look at his younger friend across the table.

 

“It escalated quite quickly, didn’t it?” Daehwi then muses, and Jihoon just wants this conversation to be over so he can wallow. “I personally thought you might catch feelings for Jinyoung but it really was always about Woojin all along, wasn’t it?” He lets out an empty laugh. “And to think he was the one who was the most scared you’d fall in love with Jinyoung and get your heart broken.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon simply says, not just to Daehwi. He has no idea what else to say. The confusion has replaced itself with pure guilt. He’d known, of course, that it hadn’t been his best idea to not hear Woojin out. He shouldn’t have cut Woojin off and asked for space, maybe, even if it seemed like the only solution. He should’ve let him talk, because that’s what best friends _do_.

 

Again, Jihoon says, voice lower this time: “I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m not mad,” Daehwi responds, and Jihoon finds it in himself to believe him. “But you need to talk to him.”

 

Something in his head supplies him with the possibility that it might be too late for that. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, though. In the end he doesn’t have to, because Daehwi says, “You know he’d wait for you to come to him, right? You can.”

 

“I know you wanted to wait and figure it out, but it’s obviously not happening. You just seem too confused and the more you think the more it’s suffocating you.”

 

Huh, yeah. Well.

 

He’s suffocating now, too.

 

He wants to stop thinking, wants to stop feeling. All these things he feels like he _knows_ but they hurt even more when Daehwi is firing them at him with the gentleness of a feather, yet it hurts like gunshots.

 

After everything, he just doesn’t think he’s ready to be in love like this, doesn’t think he wants to compromise what he has with Woojin right now just because his heart keeps betraying him.

 

He doesn’t want to fall and have no one there to catch him.

 

Although, realistically, he should know Woojin wouldn’t let that happen.

 

And maybe, just maybe, that’s hitting him now.

 

 _Damn_.

 

“I have to go,” Jihoon says, standing up and swinging his bag over his shoulder. “I can’t do this yet. I don’t….”

 

Daehwi simply nods and gives him a weak smile. “It’s going to be okay if you want it to be okay.”

 

“I’m sorry for running off on you, too,” is all Jihoon says in response.

 

“Don’t be. Come join Jinyoung and me for dinner again soon, okay. And bring Woojin, too. Things have been too strange without the two of you together.”

 

Normalcy, is what Daehwi is implying. Going back to the way things were. He wishes it way this easy.

 

Could it be?

 

But he has to sort it out first, he has to stop thinking, start talking.

 

He has to decide.

 

He has to look Woojin in the eye and face whatever the hell is coming next, and he doesn’t think he’s ready for that yet.

 

( It doesn’t look like he has much of a choice, though, because in the end, it looks like Woojin will be the one who finds him first. )

 

 

* * *

 

  
In every story, an epiphany comes as a relief. A weight falling off one’s shoulders.

 

This is why Jihoon, when looking back on it later, doesn’t want to label this as the moment a few things click into place. Because at this moment, a wave of guilt — of _panic_ — crashes into him, washes over him, makes him drown.

 

He vaguely recalls coming home, yet his mind is too fuzzy and preoccupied. “What’s gotten into you?” Donghan asks, studying Jihoon’s glassy eyes and tense posture.

 

“Daehwi came to talk to me,” he says, “About Woojin.”

 

“How’d that go?” Donghan asks, despite him probably already knowing the answer. Donghan, like Woojin, is a dancer. He knows body language. And he knows Jihoon.

 

Jihoon walks to the couch where his friends are and places his hand on the back. “There’s so much I didn’t wanna think about and now I can’t _not_ think about it.”

 

Despite having tried to tuck it away and keep his roommates out of this, Jihoon knows that Haknyeon had still told Donghan about that night after he came looking for his housemate. Jihoon had briefly explained what happened the morning after, but said he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

 

Haknyeon reaches out to him and pats his hand. “Maybe you need to stop thinking and allow yourself to feel things every now and then.” To which Donghan chimes in with, “You look like a wreck, Jihoon.”

 

It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie because even though he doesn’t physically _look_ like one as much (or so he hopes), he sure feels like it.

 

“I just need time.” It’s the same things he’d said just earlier, he feels like all of this is just a repeat of what he told Daehwi, what he’d told Jinyoung and Guanlin even before that.

 

His older roommate shakes his head. “No Jihoon, you don’t. You really don’t. Can’t you see that it’s only making it worse?”

 

Jihoon feels his cheeks going red and all he can think of is that he needs to breathe.

 

“You keep throwing one excuse after another but you never tell us what it really is,” Donghan continues, as Haknyeon just bites his lip and shoots him a worried glance. He sounds incredibly impatient, serious. Nothing like the usual Donghan who bickers with him for hours, nothing like the Donghan who he plays games with and regularly tries to throw an egg at his face when they’re making ramen together. “It’s _fear_ , Jihoon. You’ve made yourself so damn scared and for what. This is Woojin we’re talking about.”

 

There is no denying that Donghan is right. It _is_ fear. Yet he wonders why it’s so hard to just give in to it, so he can deal with it. He wonders why he can’t just stop it all, or why he can’t go back in time.

 

“I know there’s no avoiding worrying about things, even though I find it highly strange in this case because, like I said, it’s _Woojin_. But if you’re already convinced something is going to end in disaster, I feel like that just means it probably will. So instead of doing that, give it a goddamn shot, or at least talk to him.”

 

He wants to scream, wants to yell. His frustrations, his feelings are at a boiling point. He wants to get it out — what he feels for Woojin, not even knowing if Woojin would even _care_ , or what it would mean if he did.

 

“Stop hurting yourself and him.”

 

He wishes it was easy.

 

He wishes he could do it all over, or just take it all back.

 

He wishes… he wishes he could just have Woojin back, no matter how.

 

“I need some air,” is what he says, and he doesn’t wait for his roommates to respond, doesn’t listen to Donghan sighing exasperatedly or Haknyeon softly calling out to him. He leaves, takes a long look at the closed door of Woojin’s apartment across from him, and _runs_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jihoon is usually not a runner. But he’s running now.

 

In more ways than one, but this goes without saying.

 

He’s been out for a few hours, walking as the sun slowly set and the sky got darker with the minute. He’s trying to gather his thoughts, trying to comprehend and conclude and solve the same way he’s tried for weeks, months. Nothing comes; no epiphanies or sudden realisations, just the same thoughts with a little extra weight from the afternoon added to it. Yet, it’s so ridiculously, painfully _easy_. It should be. Woojin is his best friend. Woojin was his best friend before all of this happened.

 

So why can’t he stop beating himself up over this? Why can’t he let go of his fears and just talk to Woojin. But it was hard for him; admitting that he’s scared in the first place. Park Jihoon doesn’t _get_ scared. Park Jihoon doesn’t pine and he doesn’t whither and overthink.

 

He finds himself wishing, for the nth time, that he did fall in love with Jinyoung like his friends had assumed. It would’ve been a bit awkward, maybe, but they would have been fine. And yet instead his feelings for Woojin came back from never having left, instead Woojin swooped in and tried to heal wounds that didn’t exist until he created them himself.

 

_You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with._

 

But he can’t blame him. He can’t blame Woojin because that’s who he is; taking care of Jihoon when he doesn’t have to, just trying to make him happy no matter how emotionally repressed he is acting.

 

That’s why he’d said he needed time. Time to get over it, time to figure himself out.

 

_And to think he was the one who was the most scared you’d fall in love with Jinyoung and get your heart broken._

 

And as time has shown him, it’s not working.

 

He doesn’t know how, doesn’t know _why_ , but he finds himself in the middle of the dance floor of the very same place he was at weeks ago. The same place he’s last seen or spoken to Woojin. The beginning of the end, or maybe rather the end of the beginning.

 

It’s an excuse, maybe. Being here may be a distraction even though he knows it probably won’t be. But it’s all he wanted. For _one_ night. One night and maybe some liquid courage, too. Telling himself it would be fine.

 

(Spoiler alert: it won’t be fine.)

 

It goes downhill. A recipe for what is probably a disaster. It’s like this:

 

Three shots served by a vaguely concerned-looking bartender and Jihoon feels freer than he has in _weeks_. Just a little bit, though, but it’s enough for now. He’s not drunk, doesn’t dare to be.

 

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he becomes aware of his surroundings. First, a little, then acutely. He starts noticing the people around him, starts noticing the couples kissing and dancing and grinding.

 

For a moment, he debates. _A chance_. A chance to prove himself he can get over Woojin.

 

But before he even gets a chance to _try_ , his entire plan goes to waste.

 

Someone at the bar makes eye contact with him. It’s a guy, a little older, handsome. He catches Jihoon’s gaze, smirks, and pushes himself off of his stool to come over.

 

 _I need this_ , Jihoon tells himself. _Some dancing and having fun and no thinking_.

 

He barely finishes the thought before realising it’s a lie. It’s a lie because he’s been here before, months and months ago. Before Jinyoung swooped in and helped out. Because Jinyoung knew this wasn’t the way even before he did.

 

Minor gay panic aside, the stranger has nearly reached him, and Jihoon needs to decide.

 

But he thinks about Woojin — again, as if it were clockwork, routine — and realises he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want or _need_ anything if it isn’t with Woojin.

 

The heart wants what the heart wants, he supposes.

 

He’s known this, he’s aware. And he’s aware of his mistake, of hurting himself and Woojin both. He can’t keep running away forever, not when his feelings remain unchanged.

 

(Not when he just realised that maybe they’ve gotten stronger.)

 

He can’t move on. At least, not without closure, first. Not without knowing if Woojin even wants to talk to him.

 

A small wave of panic, of epiphanies and anxieties, crashes over him.

 

And he drowns.

 

In front of him, the guy has reached him. His smile looks confident, alluring. He leans over to Jihoon, probably to whisper some sort of greeting or introduction, when all of Jihoon’s reflexes kick in.

 

“I’m straight!” he blurts, realising what a bad lie it is. The guy in front of him looks confused but unconvinced, and Jihoon’s fight or flight (preferably flight) instinct kicks in for the 500th time that week.

 

The strobe lights of the club are making it hard to see well as he maneuvers to the exit. He feels a hand pulling him back by the back of his jacket, and fears it’s the guy holding him back. But instead he turns around to see Im Youngmin, one of Woojin and Daehwi’s friends, giving him a concerned look. Jihoon forgot Youngmin works here part time.

 

The redhead opens his mouth to say something, but before he can get a word out before Jihoon shakes his head and turns back. He moves through the crowd as quickly as he can, and then there’s a gust of fresh air touching him.

 

He doesn’t know where his feet carry him this time, but is vaguely aware of himself walking again. He doesn’t know where he’s headed — in the pouring rain, hair stuck to his forehead. But he keeps going until his lungs burn, until his legs give out under him at a crossroad that should be familiar but isn’t.

 

Checking his phone, Jihoon notices the battery died, too. No way to reach home or to figure out where he’s supposed to go this time of the night. He doesn’t even know what time it is and Donghan and Haknyeon might even be worried about him now.

 

Fine. God. _Whatever._

 

He all but collapses on a bench near a park he thinks he’s been to before. The rain has settled a little. It doesn’t matter, though — he is soaked regardless.

 

“Jihoon,” a voice calls at one point, an infinite amount of time later. He has no idea how long he’s been sitting there. Long enough for his hands to have lost feeling. He doesn’t feel cold just yet. Maybe he’s just numb by now.

 

It’s only normal that he thinks he’s imagined it.

 

But then, “Jihoon.”

 

Again.

 

The rain stops abruptly, then, but Jihoon still watches the droplets in the puddles on the other side of the path. The presence next to him is all too familiar, and he thinks it’s both the best and the worst thing that could have happened at this moment.

 

“We’ve been looking for you. Youngmin saw you leave,” Woojin says as if that magically explains everything. Jihoon tries to huff, or give any form of reaction, but nothing comes.

 

The younger sits down next to him. He doesn’t reach out to Jihoon, doesn’t even look at him. Instead, he’s just looking forward, watching the traffic, steadily holding the umbrella over both of their heads.

 

“Come home, Jihoon,” he starts after a while. He doesn’t know what time it is, only that he hears the birds starting to chirp in the trees at the park. “You’ll get sick like this.”

 

“Why?” Jihoon answers. The first thing he’s said to Woojin in over a _week,_ nearly two. What the fuck. “Why are you here?” He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t sound angry, just defeated.

 

“Let’s talk.”

 

Woojin says it first, and Jihoon just feels like shrinking further into himself. He doesn’t want to be like this.

 

“I was being serious, when I said I’d protect you. Even if that meant giving you space when I shouldn’t have. So, now, let’s talk about this, yeah?”

 

He pointedly ignores the first part of Woojin’s words. He doesn’t want to think about it. But he nods, slowly. Woojin offers him a soft smile, eyes a mix of fond and worry. Jihoon doesn’t see it, still staring ahead of himself.

 

The younger gets up, then, dusts off his jeans and extends a hand to Jihoon. “Let’s go home first.”

 

There is something in those words, something in the way that Woojin says _home_ that has Jihoon looking up. He looks at Woojin now, who is looking at him patiently, who is asking and talking to him carefully. He thinks about how much of a fool he’s been.

 

He takes his hand, lets Woojin entwine their fingers. He lets himself be dragged to Woojin’s car, lets himself feel the cold, wet air on his face.

 

He lets Woojin guide him into his own dorm room without any word of discussion. Donghan is home, watching television with the lights off. When the door clicks open, he just turns around in the dark, only the light from the tv screen illuminating the side of his face. Woojin just mutters a quick _Hey, Jihoon’s with me_ and Donghan nods wordlessly in response to that. Jihoon isn’t sure if he’s smiling or not, if he’s angry or not. He’s too tired to figure it out.

 

Woojin gives him time in the bathroom. Jihoon undresses himself slowly and looks at himself in the tiny bathroom mirror for a moment before reaching for a set of more comfortable clothes. He brushes his teeth, runs a hand through his hair. When he gets out and enters his room, he’s all alone and Woojin and him still haven’t talked yet.

 

As he crawls into bed, it briefly and irrationally occurs to him that Woojin might have lied, just to get him home. He’s about to go straight back into _overthinking mode_ when the door to his room softly opens and Woojin walks in holding a glass of tap water. Jihoon notices he’s wearing his own pyjamas and briefly wonders if Woojin came to find him like this or if he just changed clothes while Jihoon was in the bathroom.

 

Jihoon finds himself holding his breath, not knowing what comes next.

 

The mattress creaks a little and dips as Woojin sits down next to Jihoon, as it has done a thousand times before when they had sleepovers despite being literal neighbours. Woojin puts a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder, shakes it gently, helps the older boy sit up. “Drink some water,” he says, bringing the glass up to Jihoon’s lips.

 

He grabs the glass from Woojin’s hands and takes a few sips himself. “I’m not a child,” he says. No matter how petulant he sounds right now, he’s not _broken_.

 

Although, maybe just a little cracked.

 

“I know,” Woojin says, the soft smile on his lips unwavering. “But I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

 

This is who they are, this is who Woojin is. Bad with words, good with actions, he supposes. Where Jihoon has always brought comfort in the form of words, Woojin gave back with deeds.

 

Case in point: the fact Woojin takes the glass back from Jihoon, puts it on the nightstand, and makes a motion for the older to move over so he can crawl in himself.

 

Jihoon obliges without protest. Too tired, too weary and a little unsure of what is even happening right now.

 

“Every time I stay over I thank the Gods that you have a twin size bed,” Woojin murmurs. He scoots closer to Jihoon anyway, as if there’s not enough space for the both of them regardless of the size of their bed.

 

(As if the space between them is still too much.)

 

“You should sleep,” says Woojin, as he gently wraps his arms around Jihoon. Jihoon, who somehow isn’t the biggest fan of physical contact, yet Woojin knows exactly what he needs right now.

 

“You wanted to talk,” Jihoon reminds him, a little unsure.

 

It’s quiet for a moment. Jihoon absent-mindedly notes the television in their small living room having been turned off, which meant either Donghan had gone to sleep or simply left.

 

“I do,” Woojin answers. “But I’m scared too, you know?”

 

Oh.

 

And then, “Maybe it’s selfish, but I just want my best friend back, just tonight. We can figure the rest out along the way.”

 

Only half awake, Jihoon finds himself nodding. Tonight, he allows himself to slip, allows his walls to crumble, allows himself to be even more selfish.

 

It’s freeing, somehow, to be caged in Woojin’s arms.

 

He swallows his anxiety, buries his face into Woojin’s chest, and somehow manages to fall asleep.  


 

* * *

 

 

Jihoon wakes up to a soft _click_ of the door. He cracks an eye open, reading 8:35AM on his alarm clock. It must have been Woojin, he thinks. Regret washes over him.

 

He closes his eyes again and somehow falls back asleep.

 

It’s nearing noon when Jihoon finally gets up. He takes the full glass of water and the aspirin tablet he assumes Woojin left behind, before padding to the kitchen and looking if there’s anything to eat.

 

After finding some cereal and stealing some of Haknyeon’s milk despite the bottle saying _DON’T TOUCH,_ he goes back to his room. He tries to get some work done, as going to class was out of the question but finals season won’t stay gone forever.

 

It’s quite relaxing. He’s alone today, knowing his two roommates will be at lectures and in the library. He’s really _alone_ , though, because he’s not even sure if Woojin and him are okay now.

 

The floor underneath the carpet is cold when he’s lying down to take a break. Jihoon doesn’t know what prompted him to do it, but here he is – lying in the middle of his deserted dorm, sun beating down on his face through the window.

 

He doesn’t know how long he lies there before there’s a knock on the door. Jihoon stays silent and waits.

 

Another knock. _There_.

 

He waits.

 

And waits.

 

Until there’s a sigh from the other side of the door and the lock clicks. To no one’s surprise, it is Woojin who walks in. “Hi,” the younger says as he walks over to where Jihoon is. He dangles a pair of keys in his hand. “I still have your spare key.”

 

Jihoon doesn’t say anything. Not when Woojin puts the key on the nightstand, not when Woojin is standing there and obviously debating whether to stay or go. He just lies there, eyes closed and unmoving.

It’s silent for a while and Jihoon finds himself counting the seconds until something happens. He gets to 32 he hears something shift next to him. Shuffling of feet.

 

_Is Woojin leaving again?_

 

_Is it over?_

 

Jihoon doesn’t open his eyes just in case he really is. He’s not sure if he’d be able to bear it, watching Woojin walk out, even if it’s what he deserves..

 

But it’s not what Woojin does. Jihoon hears the younger take off his shoes, instead. And not even twenty seconds later, he feels the vague warmth of someone lying down on the carpet next to him. Then, two arms wrapping around his waist just like last night.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hi.”

 

“You know, for two people who usually tell each other everything, we’re really bad at communicating.” Jihoon finds it in him to snort at that. He turns his head to look at Woojin, to _truly_ look at him.

 

He’s smiling at Jihoon. There’s no anger or resentment in his tone, but Jihoon can tell his eyes look a bit sad. “I’m sorry,” Jihoon responds. “I don’t know why I’ve been like this.”

 

He was so tired of it, of his friends tiptoeing around him, insinuating things about him and his feelings, and when it went to shit, voices softly calling his name as if he might break otherwise.

 

You know what, maybe he would have. Maybe he did.

 

“Did I ever tell you why I broke it off with Hyungseob?” Woojin asks instead of responding.

 

Jihoon has to think about it for a moment. “Not really, no. I mean, that it was a mutual decision and stuff, but yeah.”

 

Next to him, Woojin is quiet for a second. When Jihoon glances at him, he seems to be in deep thought. So he doesn’t say anything, either.

 

“I wasn’t committed, I think. And I was scared, too,” Woojin starts after some time, and slowly untangles himself from Jihoon to get into a more comfortable position. He makes sure he stays close, though.

 

To anyone else, he would look relaxed, laying down with his hands behind his head. But Jihoon notices some tension in his shoulders, how his voice doesn’t sound quite like himself. “I didn’t want to hurt him. It was good while it lasted, and I’m glad we parted as friends. I really liked him, don’t get me wrong, but I wasn’t in love with him.”

 

In response, Jihoon just nods and hums. He’s not too sure why this is relevant, but Woojin always has his motives when he gets heartfelt.

 

And there it is, when he says, voice quiet: _“But I realised I was in love with someone else, though.”_

 

Woojin turns over halfway, leaning his head on his hand, facing Jihoon, as if if to see his reaction.

 

Jihoon just swallows, says, “Yeah?”

 

The other boy nods. “It was really scary. I’m not good at these things, you know that. And I didn’t think he’d feel the same. It was kind of useless anyway, though. When Seob and I broke up he was involved with someone else.”

 

Something should click, then. Jihoon feels like this is the moment he should realise who Woojin is talking about. But he’s too unsure, and a little scared. He’s jumped to conclusions way too often recently, and forces himself to do so now. Instead, he opts to keep it a little vague. “That’s… I’m sorry that happened to you.”

 

Woojin just chuckles. Then, he reaches over again and gently places his hand on top of Jihoon’s. “Why are we so bad at this? Why couldn’t I just tell you that I like you?” he muses.

 

It could come off as an offhand remark, an afterthought. But in that moment, Jihoon feels the entire world _stop_.

 

Oh. Oh?

 

“You… you like me?”

 

Woojin squeezes his hand. “Yeah. I don’t even know how long it has been, but yeah. I thought it was obvious.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“And I spent so long thinking you didn’t feel the same way. You kind of pushed me away too when I started dating Hyungseob. Even though you pretended you didn’t. I never knew why that was, but it made me realise I wasn’t meant to be with _him_.”

 

Jihoon just sighs, defeated and guilty. He doesn’t want to be sad, not over things from over a year ago. Not over the fact he almost lost Woojin for real, this time. His own fault. “I’m sorry.”

 

“So when you and Jinyoung ended things I thought maybe we’d be fine. I’d just continue to repress it, I thought. And then you just… _confessed_ to me that night. And you ran off.” Woojin tries not to sound frustrated, Jihoon can tell, but there is still a hint of sadness, maybe even anger in his voice.

 

Here they are, lying on Jihoon’s bedroom floor, mere centimeters away from each other. Outside, the world keeps spinning, the birds keep chirping, people go on with their lives. But in here, with Woojin’s hand on his, time has stopped.

 

It’s Jihoon’s turn to be honest now.

 

“I thought you just… wanted something the same way Jinyoung and I had.”

 

Woojin sighs, but not in a way that seems annoyed. It sounds… fond? A little amused? He adjusts his hand on top of Jihoon’s so that their fingers entwine. “ _You should just mind your own business instead of making all these assumptions_ , remember? Look who’s talking now, huh.”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” he dares to ask, even though he’s aware it sounds a little selfish.

 

“I called out for you,” Woojin admits. The guilt knocks Jihoon right in the stomach. “But you seemed so hurt and I couldn’t be the one doing that to you.” Woojin snorts. “And besides, You’re Park Jihoon. That’s a dictionary synonym for ‘ _Really stubborn_ ’. You sounded so determined when you said you needed to get over me, I just felt like that was it.”

 

“Even though you liked me?” It makes him mad a little on top of it all. Not specifically at Woojin or at how they are. But at the world in general.

 

The other boy sits up then, and shifts into a position so he can still look at Jihoon. He never lets go of Jihoon’s hand, as if he’s scared the older would run off again. “You’re like a hurricane, you know that?” He has a smile playing on his lips, but his serious eyes reel Jihoon in. “Once you decide you want, or don’t want something, you go for it and that’s final. Plus, I know how you feel about relationships. I saw it with Jinyoung, too.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon says again. He needs Woojin to know this, needs him to know that he regrets this. “I hated hurting you the most, even though I thought it would be for the better.”

 

They sit in silence for a moment, Woojin never letting go of Jihoon’s hand. It feels strangely grounding, which is why Jihoon continues.

 

“I was just scared,” he admits, even though he knows Woojin probably knows that. “Last year, too. I loved you but I didn’t know what that meant. And it scared me. _All of this_ scared me.”

 

And then, quieter, “I’m still scared, now.” As he says it, he looks at Woojin’s face properly for the first time. The sun coming in through the window, illuminating his face. The look in his eyes is soft, open and displaying everything he’s feeling. It’s forgiveness, it’s a chance to clear the air.

 

“I know you are. But why?”

 

It’s not supposed to be a loaded question. Not when everything is out in the open already. Not when Jihoon should _know_ he can trust his best friend. Because that’s what Woojin is. That’s what Woojin has been for years.

 

“What if we date and break up, then?” brings out, and it’s the most honest thing he’s said to Woojin in weeks, the most _bare_ he’s ever felt in front of him — or anyone else, really — in a long time. He sits up too, facing Woojin.

 

It feels strangely intimate.

 

Woojin says nothing at that for a moment. Instead, he brings their joined hands up to his lips. “You can’t go into this thinking about the end, Ji. And even then, it’s _us_ . It’s _me_ ,” he says, before pressing a soft kiss on Jihoon’s knuckles.

 

“You don’t have to rush it, Jihoon. You’re... and I... maybe it’s risky and endangering a friendship, but I’m willing to fight for it. We’ve been in each other’s lives too damn long to let it ruin us. Didn’t I say I would come back to haunt you?”

 

The younger tentatively reaches out with his free hand, caressing Jihoon’s cheek, cupping his jaw.

 

Then, it hits him. It hits him that this is Woojin. The same Woojin who has been here for _years_ , who knows Jihoon better than he knows himself. Woojin, who is bad with feelings yet lays himself bare for Jihoon, who shows him that he _understands_ fear, too. If there’s anyone out there who he feels like he can have a real _something_ with, then it’s Woojin.

 

When Jihoon doesn’t say anything and simply leans into Woojin’s touch, the younger continues. “We can just take it slow. I know where you stand and you know where I stand and I—“

 

The wave that crashes over him is not panic, this time. It is not worry, it is not anxiety. It’s almost like relief. It’s bravery, the heat of the moment. And it is not a mistake when Jihoon leans over and kisses him. It’s brief — a simple press of lips against lips. Yet, it’s enough to make them both dizzy.

 

“Um,” Woojin starts when they finally pull away. “Did you just—”

 

“I think so, yeah,” Jihoon responds.

 

“You think?”

 

Woojin _beams_ at him as the last remains of insecurity ebb away into nothingness.

 

“Let me just… _confirm_ for a second,” Jihoon says, then. He seems hesitant, but when Woojin doesn’t make any protest and instead meets his eyes with a look full of determination, he leans in again.

 

“ _Yep_ , I definitely did,” Jihoon says, and Woojin simply gives him an eye-roll before bringing their lips together again.

 

  
“Let’s go on a date after finals are over,” Woojin says after a nap. The floor had gotten uncomfortable, and Woojin had dragged Jihoon under the covers of his bed with him as he had done a million times before. They had fallen asleep talking, kissing, whispering confessions to each other. “Test the waters. You know, _go with the flow_.”

 

There’s something in Woojin’s voice that just has Jihoon melting from the adoration. He realises this is what it was meant to feel like all along. And he realises this is why it feels the way it’s supposed to feel because it’s Woojin, who will gladly meet Jihoon halfway, who will still be his best friend before they are anything else.

 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Jihoon says, inching closer to him as if there was any distance left to close. Woojin beams at him, kisses his nose, and wraps his arms around him.

 

He’s happy. He’s home and his heart, for the first time in a long time, feels at ease.

 

He thinks how their friends will never let them hear the end of this, and laughs to himself quietly before he captures Woojin’s lips with his own.

  


* * *

 

  
**Epilogue**

 

It is not paradise. Never was, but that’s okay. It’s not what Jihoon expected in the first place anyway.

 

There are still moments where it gets to him, where the thoughts consume him and he starts doubting everything. Where he doubts whether this is what he wants, where he gives in to the sudden sinking feeling in his stomach.

 

There are days where Jihoon wallows in his own self-doubt. Where all he wants to do is hide. But Woojin follows him, finds him every time, meets him halfway. Woojin, who curls up next to him, wraps his arms around Jihoon, peppers kisses down the back of his neck.

 

It’s _Woojin_ — has always been, will probably always be. It wasn’t ever anyone else. Not Jinyoung, not any of the people who ever even _tried_ . It wasn’t ever _no one_ , either. No matter how many times he’s told himself otherwise, no matter how many times he wanted to feel differently.

 

“Stop thinking so much.”

 

Jihoon sighs, turning around and facing Woojin but not leaving his embrace. The sun reflects in Woojin’s eyes, and he squints at Jihoon.

 

He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

 

“Okay,” Jihoon simply says. “Okay.”

 

He lets Woojin take all his worries away when he wraps his arms around him a little tighter, when his breath ghosts on Jihoon’s lips until Jihoon leans in and kisses him first.

 

It dawns on him how Woojin gives him time, gives him space. Woojin, who is always the first one to follow Jihoon to where he is hiding yet keeps his distance so he can let him breathe. He thinks about it - the pushing and pulling, unwillingly but there nonetheless.

 

“It’s alright,” he whispers against Jihoon’s lips before Jihoon sighs into his mouth.

 

Jihoon believes him.

 

Fear. Endings. Fear of endings and everything before, after, in between that, too.

 

But he knows, now, that no matter what happens, he will have Woojin by his side for an infinity.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ♡ i struggled quite a lot writing this, actually, but it was a learning experience nonetheless. i'm not very happy with how it turned out so maybe i'll come back to rewrite/adjust/etc. this at some point. until then, i hope you enjoyed reading it regardless. thank you so much to jenny and everyone else who encouraged me and kicked my ass... i couldn't have done it without you! 
> 
> feedback and (constructive) criticism is always welcome and greatly appreciated! ♡  
> [multifandom twt](https://twitter.com/mijoo) | [fic twt](https://twitter.com/bunssos)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/myung)!


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